The Trials of Ziva
by Allie Kreek
Summary: It has been 2 years since Jenny died and the team went in different directions. Ziva is working a case that she needs the team for. It is from Ziva's POV and may be a little TIVA-ish.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own most of this stuff but I do like to play with it. **

**Notes: This takes place 2 years after Jenny's death and the team have been split up. I hope you enjoy.**

Two years after Jenny's death Ziva had found herself working in Spain trying to disrupt a weapons smuggling operation. The two years back at Mossad had not been kind. Still estranged from her father Ziva had been sidelined and was receiving all the jobs that nobody else would do. She had been to Russia to watch for terrorists, an operation that had taken 6 months and had no results. She had spent several weeks guarding a low level diplomat in Germany but that assignment was terminated after she broke three of his ribs and his nose. Then there were the boring filing tasks she had been given. Ziva's father was a powerful man and he was using that power to force his way back into her life.

Madrid was hot. Hot was how Ziva liked it. She sat at the edge of a fountain with a book but she was not reading it. Ziva was watching the building across the street. It was an old, business property and had been leased to a company called Barthos. It was a cover. The official products sold by Barthos were soap, bubble bath and luxury hair products but unofficially they were dealing in a range of weaponry from semtex to Stinger Missiles to Kalashnikovs. The building had been rented by a man named Raul Sandros but a little digging revealed that Raul Sandros had been killed in the Madrid train bombings in 2004. The company attracted a fair amount of custom, some who thought the shop was a quaint soap shop and others who were there for something a little more exotic. Ziva had counted eight known terrorists in the last week ranging from two Al Queda members, four IRA and two Basques. Business was booming.

Ziva watched as two men walked towards the shop. "Can you see this?" She asked her hidden surveillance team.

"Hold the camera up a little higher."

Ziva stretched and held the book up a little higher as though she was readjusting her reading position. The small camera concealed within the book was aimed straight at the shop doors. "How's that?"

"That's great. We're running a check." There was silence. A few minutes passed and finally the surveillance team spoke. "The ugliest one is Arun Mohammed. He is wanted by the US for supplying the Taliban with weapons. No apparent links to Al Queda. Pretty price on his head though. Nothing on the other guy."

"Ok. Send the information to HQ and ask them to forward it to the Americans." Ziva continued to watch the shop. It was a tedious task. She was expected to watch the shop until orders from HQ came in to neutralise the smuggling ring. She had a feeling that HQ was waiting for someone a little more interesting then Arun Mohammed and the others that had already visited. "Are Beta team here yet?"

"Yeah Meir is on his way out. You should see him in a few minutes." Ziva waited patiently. The change over had to look convincing. She watched Meir walking towards her with a grin from ear to ear. He spoke loud enough for people all around to hear. The idea was he would hit on her, she would look disgusted and walk away while he took up his position at the fountain. Ziva found it easy to act disgusted whenever Meir was near her. She found the man repulsive.

Ziva walked slowly away from the fountain and the terrorist shop pleased that the day was over. Four hours sat on that fountain had made her muscles stiff. The walk was better than a massage. She made it to the safe house that held the off duty teams. She relinquished all the surveillance equipment she had taken with her that day and headed to her room. The building was old and damp but it belonged to an Israeli company who were quite happy to let Mossad use it. Ziva's room consisted of very little. The large window that took up almost a whole wall was painted black and covered in bin liners. A broken mirror hung to the right wall just above a cracked sink. Against the left wall and just under the darkened window was an old matress that had been rescued from one of the top floor rooms and was now covered with Ziva's sleeping bag and an extra blanket. Ziva walked over to the sink and ran the tap. Luckily the water supply was clean. She splashed her face and neck with the cold water. She looked at herself in the mirror. The job she had once loved had become a living nightmare. She thought about giving in to her father and returning home with her tail between her legs but the thought made her angry. Why should she seek forgiveness from him? He was the one who sent her after Ari. She had to kill Ari. Why couldn't he have sent someone else? He should be asking for forgiveness from her. Ziva furiously splashed more water on her face to wash away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks. She changed into some comfortable jeans, boots and a light jumper. She grabbed her phone and headed out.

Ziva liked to walk the streets of Madrid at night. Madrid still held some mystery that a lot of cities had lost. Ziva headed through the Parque del Retiro and on towards the Palacio de Communicaciones. The walk had become a nightly ritual for Ziva. She would assure the team leader that she would have her phone on at all times but as soon as she was out of sight of the house she would switch her phone off. She knew she could get in serious trouble for being out of contact but she no longer cared. She walked on further and her body and mind started to relax. She watched as the sky became littered with bright stars and after forty five minutes walking she sat down outside a small Italian cafe. The first time she saw the cafe she had laughed, an Italian cafe in Spain. Then she realised it was no different to McDonalds in Tel Aviv. She ordered a black coffee and took a seat outside. The last few weeks had really got to her, she felt useless. The thought of resigning had been heavy on her mind but she would not know what to do. In the last week she had entertained thoughts of returning to America to see her friends.

_Friends _she thought sadly. Could she still consider them friends? They had called but she never answered. Abby and McGee had bombarded her with emails and she had even had the occasional voicemail off Gibbs. Ducky had written her splendid letters on expensive paper but she had never responded. DiNozzo had gone out of his way to contact her. First were the emails and phonecalls. Second were flowers every day for two months. Third was a man dressed in a dinosaur outfit knocking at her front door. Fourth was a subscription to The New American Magazine. Tony had tried hard but she had ignored them. She still did not know why she hadn't answered but it seemed to be the right thing to do. The last contact she had was another beautiful letter from Ducky to inform her of his new address and number. It had included a little story about his time in France which had ended with his mother being arrested. She missed Ducky's stories. She missed Abby's strange music. She missed Tony and McGee. She even missed Gibbs and his habit of slapping. Would they still consider her a friend?

Ziva took out her phone, switched it on and pulled up the contact list. The first name was Abby. Maybe now would be a good time to mend their friendship. Ziva chickened out. She locked the phone and put it back in her pocket. She drank the last mouthful of her cold coffee and stood up. She stretched and looked up at the sky. Maybe she would catch a break soon. _Maybe_ she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Still not mine enim ton llitS**

"David!"

Ziva stirred from a deep sleep. She had been dreaming about being back in Israel.

"David! Get up! You've got a message from HQ." The voice of Zahavy the communications officer spoke to her. "Ziva, get up."

"I'm up." Ziva said unconvincingly. Her eyes were still closed. A sharp pain shot through her right leg as Zahavy kicked her into conciousness. She sat upright and scowled at Zahavy. "If you ever kick me again I swear I will..."

"You have a message from HQ." He stuck a sealed envelope into her face hoping that it would make her forget her threat. It seemed to work. "Have we got a go?"

Excitement pumped through Ziva's veins. They had been waiting for weeks for the word to go. Ziva tore open the envelope and read the message. Her heart dropped a little. "No go. I've got to go to the Gran Melia Fenix Hotel." She took out a room key from envelope.

"That is unfair. You're getting a five star hotel and I've got to stay here." Zahavy smiled. "You better dress nicely. No jeans or boots."

"Well that's all I've got so that will have to do." Ziva growled. She was not in the mood to play dress up.

"Does it say anything else?"

"No." Ziva leaned over to her rucksack and pulled out a lighter. It was the Zippo Tony had given her as a leaving present. She smiled. It was the only thing in his pocket. McGee had chivalrously handed over his iPod but she refused to take it. The small flame from the Zippo bobbed about and Ziva used it to set the instructions from HQ alight. Zahavy took the small metal basin that had been acting as a bin and handed it to Ziva who dropped the flaming paper into it. She watched it burn completely and clambered out of her sleeping bag. "I'll need a few things."

"The camera, radio, gun ensemble. Madame will look fabulous." Zahavy smiled. He left the room and Ziva dressed. She wore her clothes from last night but slipped a brown suede jacket over her jumper. She went downstairs to where Zahavy was fidgeting with a small brooch that held an even smaller camera. He turned to her and pinned the brooch to her jacket. He handed her a gun with a couple of extra clips and a small radio that would fit perfectly into her ear. "I got this made for you as well." He handed her a belt with a patterned buckle.

"I'm already wearing a belt."

Zahavy sighed heavily, "This one has a GPS homing device in it. You know, just in case."

"Thanks." She said changing her belt for Zahavy's. "I'm going to walk a few blocks and then hail a taxi. How many people know where I'm going?"

"Just us. If anyone asks I'll say you've gone for a run and breakfast. No one will expect you back until about 10. That gives you nine hours."

"That should be enough time for whatever it is I'm doing." Ziva nodded. She thanked Zahavy for his assistance and left.

The taxi journey had taken about 20 minutes and Ziva was stood in the foyer of the hotel. She made her way over to the elevator and entered. She told the attendent her room number and within minutes she was stood outside the door to room 136. She unholstered her gun and proceeded with caution. She quietly opened the door hoping whoever was in there was asleep. Three lamps lit the room in a strange yellow haze. Ziva closed the door quietly behind her, listening hard for any sounds. The room she had entered was a mess. On the table in front of the TV were two empty pizza boxes and a bunch of empty beer bottles. The floor was strewn with sweet wrappers. Ziva made her way quietly to the bedroom. It was empty. The bedroom was even messier than the front room. The bed was unmade, a pile of plates with old food on it had been left beside the bed and clothes were thrown all over the room. Ziva noted that they were mens clothes. She cleared the whole hotel suite and stood in confusion. This was not what she had expected to find. She started to look around to see if she could find any clues to her being there. In a briefcase carelessly hidden beneath the bed she found a few photos. She recognised them. These were her surveillance photos from earlier in the day. This was strange. She held the picture of Arun Mohammed.

After twenty-five minutes she had found nothing but the pictures. She sat down on the edge of the sofa attempting not to move anything. Her instructions had been simple 'Wait'. She waited. Her mind was telling her something was wrong. Maybe Mossad were setting her up. She had not been the best officer over the last couple of years. Maybe any minute now Spanish police would storm the room and arrest her for espionage. Mossad would not be so careless. She could give away the details of the operation and Mossad would lose vital intelligence and the safe house. Ziva waited. She paced the room a few times. On her third trip around the room her ears caught the sound of someone shuffling the key in the door. Quick as she could she hid behind the bedroom door, her gun in her hand. The door opened and closed.

Ziva listened as footsteps fell. She heard the new occupant throw down something heavy, probably a bag. She heard a sigh. A few more footsteps on the hard wooden floors that halted abruptly. If Ziva was correct the new occupant had stopped next to the pizza box covered table. Alarm bells rang in her head. She had left the pictures out. How stupid! How careless! She tightened her grip on her weapon. She listened as the occupant picked up the pictures. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being unholstered. Her mind was racing. The weapon was probably a handgun unless the new comer made a habit of walking around with a shotgun under his coat. Her heart thumped in her chest. Her heart was beating so fast it almost hurt. She heard the newcomer walking as softly and quietly as possible towards the bedroom. She quietly holstered her gun and resigned herself to an attack once the newcomer entered the room. She would surprise him. She waited.

She heard the newcomer walk towards the bedroom where she hid but he stopped in the doorway. She knew he had no intention of walking any further into the room. She pushed the door with all her might and it hit the newcomer hard. He was dazed for a moment and she struck. Ziva hit the gun from his hand and punched him hard in the face. His hands flew up to protect his already bloody nose. She prepared to kick him but he backed away, "Jesus Ziva I think you broke my nose."

The energy drained from Ziva fast. A wave of relief and shock passed through her body. "DiNozzo?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I still don't own them**

**Notes: This might take a while to get into but I hope you'll keep with it. Thanks for the reviews and nice comments. :)**

"Is it broken?" Tony asked for the hundredth time. "I think it's broken."

"Tony! It is not broken!" Ziva assured him again. Everytime she looked at him she felt a pang of guilt. She had hit him pretty hard. She handed him a bag of ice and watched him lean back and balance the bag across his face. He grumbled a little about the pain but then went silent.

"Did you get the flowers?" Tony asked carelessly.

Ziva felt another pang of guilt. She knew the question he really wanted to ask. She forced a smile, "Yes thank you they were beautiful." She was avoiding his eyes. She scanned the room. The more she looked at it the more she realised it had DiNozzo written all over it and the only thing it lacked was a sign stating 'Tony's Room' on the door.

Tony was staring at her, "Did you get the subscription?"

"Yes thank you. Quite informative." She noticed a stack of DVDs next to the TV. How could she have missed those? "How long have you been here?"

"About a year." Tony was adjusting the ice pack. "I got my own team. Jenny offered me one after Gibbs came back but I decided to stay in DC. Then I got offered it again and said yes. Anything to get me off that boat."

"Ship." She corrected him. She watched him scowl. "I take it you didn't find your ocean legs."

"Sea legs." He corrected her. "It was horrible, probie work. The biggest case I had was a missing box of pens from storage. You get the singing dinosaur."

"Yes. My neighbours weren't too impressed by that." She smiled as she remembered the looks her neighbours had given her. "Why are you living in a hotel?"

"Cheaper then buying an apartment. Plus NCIS are paying for it." A cheeky grin spread across his face. "I figure they owe me."

"Obviously." Ziva could not help but smile. There was a pause as Tony checked his nose for blood. "Tony, I was ordered here, to this room."

"I know." Tony was still smiling. Supporting the ice bag with one hand he used the other to point at the photos on the table. "We got that this afternoon. I was at HQ when it came in. I'm working the case on the US end."

"What case?" Ziva felt the old rush of excitement. Tony and her back on a case.

Tony stood up, threw the icebag onto an old pizza box and sat back down next to Ziva. He picked up the picture of Arun Mohammed walking into Barthos. "Your guys identified this man as wanted by the US."

"Arun Mohammed. He is small scale. We've seen a mix of people going in and out some of them worse than him."

"Oh you hooked a big one here." Tony started pointing at the other man in the picture who had accompanied Arun Mohammed into the shop. "Arun Mohammed is nothing compared to this guy. His name is Al Habi Ali. He is the leader of an Islamic Extremist group called the Crescent Martyrs. Original huh?" Tony's eyes rolled. "A few of his guys blew up some tourists in Thailand, some more in Saudi Arabia and even more in Egypt. He also has a few people blowing up NATO troops in Afghanistan and he is suspected of funding extremist groups in Iraq."

"On the scale of things that is pretty simple sounding stuff." Ziva was skeptical.

Tony nodded, "Well he wasn't really a priority until a few weeks ago when a US Navy Lieutenant mentioned being approached by a man called David Banerjee claiming to be a researcher for Droghede Defence. The man started asking questions about Gun-type detonation devices for nuclear weapons among other things. The Lieutenant wasn't suspicious about it until he saw a report on the news that a David Banerjee's body had been found after he was reported missing nearly six months ago. The Lieutenant identified the man who had visited him as a British born Pakistani named Azil Khan. British authorities picked him up in London getting off a plane at Heathrow Airport three days ago. They searched him and found a number of CDs with messages from various Al Queda leaders and about two thousand leaflets about the Crescent Martyrs. They've arrested him," Tony checked his notes briefly, "under the Terrorism Act and can hold him for 28 days so we've got a little time with him. He's already admitted to quite a lot. Apparently he is more terrified of his mother than the big bad terrorists he was working for." Tony grinned.

"What did he say?" Ziva asked quietly.

"He started with the usual stuff about how the infidels should die. Then moved on briefly to how we would never stop the Crescent Martyrs and how if we cut off one head seven more will grow back. Then mommy visited and the information became a little more workable. He said he'd been in the US to find out about nuclear weapons. The Crescent Martyrs had organised him a cover as Banjeree. Says he knows nothing about Banerjee going missing. His mission was to find out specifically about detonation methods and the way the US is preventing nuclear terrorism. The Brits sent us his laptop it was emptied. I got a little computer genius at MIT working on recovering files and stuff."

"McGee?" Ziva asked with a grin. Tony's reply was a nod. Ziva missed the banter between McGee and Tony. "So you're thinking nuclear terrorism." Ziva sighed. "What else?"

"He says his contact was a man named Michael Rankin. They communicated by organised drops. Some in the US and some in the UK. The FBI have been watching the drop sights but nothing. The sights in the UK have been under surveillance but nothing either."

"Do you think he's lying?"

"No. Khan's arrest has been kept out of the mainstream media but some human rights group were sent the footage and made it public. Oh the joy of the internet. It's more likely Rankin got a little worried and didn't show. MI5 checked out Michael Rankin but they didn't come up with much except three retired policemen and a farmer."

"What about Al Habi Ali?"

"The CIA have been watching him for about a year but can get nothing concrete on him. The real alarm bells started ringing when he went off the radar about 6 months ago. A few of his minions said he'd been on a shopping trip to Iran. He fell totally off the radar until you got this picture."

"And look where he turns up."

Tony looked blank. "Well that's one of the things I wanted to ask you. Why are you watching that shop?"

"Tony you know I can't tell you that. I'd need clearance from Mossad."

Tony jumped out of his seat and made his way over to his bag. He pulled out a small envelope. "I got clearance from Mossad!"

"Really?" Ziva took the envelope. The note inside instructed her that she was assigned to work the case with Tony. The orders were from her father. "Did you speak to my father?"

"Not directly. I got that from the Director of NCIS." He smiled, "I get to call campfires again."

Ziva shook her head. "I'm already on an assignment here."

"Well if you don't want to work with me." He feigned hurt. "I suppose you can go back to sitting on fountains for hours."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Exactly how much do you know?"

"Well I saw some of your pictures. I kind of guessed you were sitting on the fountain." He sat back beside her. "So what do you say?"

Ziva stared at his face for a moment. She already knew she was going to accept. Working with NCIS would be a thousand times better than some of the cases she'd been working on. She smiled a little, "Ok Tony. That shop we've been watching is selling weapons. We've been watching it and taking photos but nothing more. It is owned by Raul Sandros. Naturally he is dead. That picture is the only time I've seen Al Habi Ali go to the shop. My team might know a little more."

"Do you think they'd mind a guest?"

"We can find out." Ziva smiled.

"Ziva I don't have to tell you how important it is that we get Al Habi Ali." His looked a little embarrassed. "What I'm trying to say is I'm glad you're onboard."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

**Notes: Thanks for sticking with the story. Thank you for the reviews! **

The return trip to the safehouse was taking longer than usual because of the early morning traffic. Tony had insisted on the two stopping to get breakfast with the argument that they may not get anything to eat for the rest of the day. Ziva had reluctantly agreed and suggested the Italian cafe she had been at the evening before. Tony had talked his way through breakfast while Ziva was content to just listen to his voice. She had missed him a lot over the last two years. She only broke her silence to ask him a single question that had been nagging at her since she had realised it was him, "How are the others?" She asked sheepishly.

"Oh you know them. Gibbs retired back to Mexico. Retired properly that is. We visited him a couple of times. He seems happy enough. McGee was sent to MIT to liase with some new project they're working on there. He explained it to us once but I didn't get it. Abby was so excited she nearly wet herself." He took a deep breath. "Abby went over to the dark side. Fornell trapped her with the promise of some sort of machine that she just couldn't live without."

"She's working with the FBI?"

"Oh yeah. She seems to love it. Ducky is still at NCIS. He misses everyone. His mother took a turn for the worst a year ago but she's still hanging in there. Gotta love the Duckman. He says Abby phones him every day." He ate the last piece of food off his plate and drained the remains of coffee from his cup. "How've you been?"

Ziva forced a smile and lied. "Everything's great. I have a nice apartment in Tel Aviv. I bought a goldfish but it died."

"Sounds fascinating." He replied sarcastically. "Ready to make a move?"

Ziva threw her napkin onto her dish and stood up. Tony hailed a taxi and Ziva directed it to the place she had hailed one from the evening before. They walked the rest of the way in silence careful to make sure no one was following them. As they approached the safehouse Ziva had a sudden feeling that something had changed. The building looked the same from outside but she had a gut feeling that there was something wrong. They entered the yard as quietly as possible. As they neared the house Ziva unconciously reached for her weapon and prepared to enter the building. She felt strongly that something was wrong. She looked at Tony who had taken a gun from a holster on his trousers. She motioned to him and he gently opened the door. They waited a moment for any unusual noises but the building was quiet. The silence did nothing to quell Ziva's fears and she entered the room cautiously checking all her danger zones just as she had been taught in training. The entrance hall was usually empty but the room to the left had become an unofficial rest room for the agents posted on this assignment. Ziva and Tony walked quietly over to the door and opened it quietly. The door creaked a little but fell back easily. The two entered the room and again checked the danger zones. It took a moment to register what she was seeing. On the thread bare sofas lay two agents from Beta team. Both were riddled with bullets, neither had put up a fight. Ziva guessed they had been asleep when whoever did this entered the room.

They continued up through the building clearing each room. They found more dead. Ziva's heart was thumping in her chest. They entered the operations room where Zahavy had given Ziva the belt and other equipment. The place was destroyed. The computers were fried, the screens smashed. Little devices had been thrown on the floor and stamped on until they were beyond repair. The walls were riddled with bullets and a number of dead agents lay on the floor. Ziva moved about the room. She cringed at the distorted faces of her colleagues. She stopped. She looked at the young innocent face of Zahavy and nearly burst into tears. Of all the people she had worked with over the two years Zahavy had shown the most spirit. Zahavy was still sat at his desk, slumped in his chair, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Ziva reached over to his face and touched it gently. The cold shot through her arm and she recoiled quickly. The cold was replaced by the heat from a wave of fury that flooded over her. She heard Tony whisper; "We need to clear the rest of the rooms."

Within ten minutes the rest of the house was cleared. Ziva was sat in her room on her matress. She had just phoned her Mossad contact. Tony was downstairs looking around for anything useful. Ziva looked at the mess of her room, whoever had been here had looked through her things. She stuffed her clothes into her bag and headed downstairs to the operations room where Tony was. He had a box of computer bits that he was throwing into a plastic storage box. He stopped as she entered, "I thought maybe McGee could get something off one of them." She nodded. "Did this place have internal cameras?"

Ziva nodded, her expression was blank. "Yes. They were routed to one of these computers."

Tony sighed as he picked up a broken hard-drive, "Well maybe McGee will have some luck."

Ziva was looking around. "Tony, did you do a body count?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "17."

"Someone is missing." Ziva started checking the faces of those in the room. She ran to the other rooms to check the faces hoping to identify the missing person. She returned a few moments later. "There are five with severe gunshot wounds to the face. We'd need fingerprints on three. Two seem to have been burnt pretty badly by a fire." She noticed the look of curiousity on Tony's face. "A couple of the agents kept a fire going in one of the large rooms upstairs, whoever broke in shot two while they were standing next to it. They must have fallen in."

"DNA is probably the best bet. Dental casting would be pretty tricky at the moment." Tony said thoughtfully. "How long before Mossad could get us the IDs?"

Ziva looked uncomfortable, "I think it would be easier to do the DNA testing at your end. I'd have to contact my handler again and that could take days or weeks, they're changing location. Plus Mossad had hoped to keep this operation quiet from the Spanish authorities. At least if you get the samples out of the country it will be semi legitimate. Mossad shouldn't be here, NCIS should."

"That's fine. I'll send them to Abby, she'll run them immediately. The new lab tech at NCIS hates me, I don't want to risk him being a pain. Plus Abby will keep it on the quiet."

"I'll get Mossad to send the DNA profiles to Abby." Ziva picked up a dark suitcase from under some broken computer fragments. She opened the case up to reveal a basic evidence collection kit. She grabbed a few things and headed back out. Tony continued to throw bits of computer into the box. When he'd finished he started looking about for anything else that would be useful. He searched the dead hoping to find something but there was nothing. He checked the other rooms nearby for evidence but there was nothing. Ziva came back into the room and handed Tony a plastic bag filled with evidence. She looked around the room, "Mossad will have to send someone to clean up."

"Maybe it's better if I get my team to get the bodies out. I'll have them transported to the US and then on to Israel." Tony looked at her face. She looked tired. "You ok?"

She nodded weakly. "Yes. I checked around the house but didn't find anything of interest. It looks like they were taken by surprise. We are supposed to totally destroy our equipment if compromised. I guess that explains the computers."

"How did they get so many of them?"

Ziva had a thought on that. It was a thought she did not like. "I think there was someone on the inside."

"You don't think maybe the other person got away or was abducted."

Ziva shook her head. "I don't think so. People were too calm. I'm guessing that whoever it was used a silencer to muffle the sound. He simply walked from room to room. One of the tech's blew the computers when they realised." Ziva liked to think it was Zahavy.

"Got any ideas?"

Ziva looked down at her shoes for a moment. The accusation was serious but she was not ready to reveal her suspicions to people. She shook her head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Notes: Hope you enjoy and thank you for your patience. **

Ziva slept restlessly. It had been two days since they had discovered the dead Mossad agents. Ziva had tried to act her usual self but Tony knew that the bodies of her colleagues had got to her. Tony was sat on the sofa of his hotel suite waiting to hear back from Abby about the DNA results. McGee still had nothing from the computers. There had not been much that they could do without more information. Tony had assigned his Madrid team the task of quietly cleaning up the safehouse so the Spanish authorities did not get involved. The team were now watching the arms dealer's shop. So far there had been nothing to report. Tony knew Ziva was becoming more and more agitated with the situation. He also knew Ziva was struggling with something but was not sure what. He wondered if it was information about the informant. They had not mentioned the idea of someone working on the inside since the safehouse so Tony had decided he was going to ask Ziva straight out. Tony was frustrated. This was no time for Ziva to be keeping secrets.

"Anything new?" Ziva asked in a groggy voice. She slumped onto the sofa beside Tony. She yawned and stretched before settling back down into the sofa.

"Nothing yet. Abby is having trouble keeping it off the FBI's radar. McGee is on his way to Abby's new lab with the computer parts. He says he needs Abby's help but I think that's just an excuse to get back in the lab with the Abster." He shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "Ziva, I've got to ask."

"I know." She looked straight ahead. She nervously tried to flatten her hair. "Tony, these last two years have been awkward, difficult."

"Why?"

She sighed heavily, "Because of my father, mostly. He wants something from me that I can't give him. He wants me to forgive him for the things he has made me do. He sent me to deal with Ari. I killed Ari. My father knew there was no other way that would end. Then there are other things. I'm not proud of them. I've ruined lives, not necessarily by killing people but by putting them in situations but I did it for what I thought was the right reasons. Now I'm not too sure."

Tony was confused. "What are you saying Ziva?"

"About a year ago I went to talk with my father. It was late, he wasn't expecting me. I got to the house and I..." She hesitated, "I still don't know why I did it. I crept round the back and heard my father speaking to someone in Arabic. They were finishing up some sort of deal. I panicked and I left."

"You think your father is working both sides."

"My father has always had a soft spot for the Palestinians. His first wife, Ari's mother, was a Palestinian. I thought maybe he was just trying to keep open an alternative line of communication. It's not unheard of. I left it at that. A couple of months later I heard some rumblings about military equipment going missing and a number of computer hard-drives going missing. I found one of those hard-drives in my father's office at home. I went snooping. I took it and had a look. It contained all the information on current IDF deployments. The names and addresses of Mossad operatives, informants, current operations, proposed operations, everything . It had information on Israeli military equipment, strengths and weaknesses. It was like..." She struggled for a comparison.

"The Israeli Holy Grail." He thought about how silly that sounded.

Ziva smiled, "Yes Tony." Her smile faded. "Naturally his position in Israel would give him access to high level information but there was something about so much information in the hands of one man. My father is a powerful man but not powerful enough to know everything."

"Pop got a God complex, huh." Tony said thoughtfully. His phrased his next sentence carefully, "Ziva, I know things between you and your father aren't great but do you really, and I want you to think about this carefully, do you really believe that your father is selling classified information to terrorists?"

"I reasoned that he had a right to that information because of his position in Israel but then things started to happen."

"What things?" Tony could not hide his curiousity. He edged closer to Ziva as though she was whispering so no one else in the room could hear.

"Well, Mossad lost an number of deep cover agents. Three from the Hezbollah ops. Five were lost in Iran. Information from the informants dried up." She swallowed hard hoping that Tony knew what she really menat by 'dried up'. "Terrorist attacks against civilians were more successful. The slightest gap in security was found immediately and exploited." She stopped suddenly as her breath caught in her throat. She felt ashamed. She should have done something sooner. She knew in her heart that this was happening.

"Ziva." Tony said questioningly.

"Then a few months ago I was contacted by an agent from a foreign intelligence group."

"You going to tell me which one."

"MI6. A British agent. We've had dealings in the past. They've always be fruitful."

"A friend?"

Ziva nodded. "I thought so. This time we left things on very bad terms."

"How bad?"

"She broke my arm, I may have punctured her lung."

"Good times." He joked. "What did she tell you?"

"Everything I did not want to hear." Ziva sighed. "She was running an operation in Iran when the Mossad agents went missing. She said she had got her hands on information about a leak at the highest levels of Mossad. She had _pursuaded_ a well connected Iranian to tell her about the leak."

"Your father."

Ziva nodded sadly. "I didn't want to believe her. She told me as a favour and I threw it back in her face."

"It is a lot to take in."

"And now this operation. My team. Dead."

"Ziva, your father wouldn't..."

She scoffed loudly, "It takes a lot of strength for me to realise the true capabilities of my father." She stood up and stretched. Moved slowly she walked to the fridge and took out a couple of cans of soda. She handed one to Tony and sat back down. "He sent me to kill my brother. He is giving information to the people who have caused the deaths of some many in our family. He is giving information to the people who do nothing but try to destroy the thing we are fighting for. Do you know he spied on us?"

Tony almost choked on his soda. "What? On us? Why?"

"Film night." She smiled. "He was convinced we were having some sort of sordid affair."

Tony could not help but smile at the idea. "He was probably worried about you."

"No. He wanted to have something he could use against me. And he did."

They sat in silence and finished up their drinks. Tony spoke calmly. "You know if your father is leaking information it is very bad." He looked concerned, "He gets to see the intelligence from all Israels allies. He is undoing a good 60 years worth of relationship building. If US intelligence gets into the hands of the enemy I'm sure our government won't be too pleased. Not to mention the technological information he is handing over. The Canadian's are using Israeli built UAV's in Afghanistan, I'm sure the Taliban would love to know how to mess about with those."

"What if he has passed on information about Israeli nuclear arms?"

Tony's eyes widened and a large smile spread across his face. "But Ziva Israel doesn't have nuclear weapons."

Ziva repeated his statement in her mind a few times until it had taken on a similar tone to 'Why Grandma what big teeth you have.' She rolled her eyes and smiled a little. "Between you and me, we do and I have seen them." It was nice to have a little relief from the terrifying reality. "I have an idea of what I think is going on but it just doesn't seem to make sense and not all the connections are clear to me yet."

"Well tell me and we'll see if we can work it out together. See if we can't fix US/Israeli relations before they become too gooey." He was emphasising his remark by moving imaginary goo around in his hands.

"I think information my father has passed on is now in the hands of the Crescent Martyrs and before my team could arrest someone who knew where this information was coming from he had them all killed by another crooked Mossad agent."

"Sounds ok to me." Tony could see the fatigue in Ziva's face. "Listen you go jump in the shower and I'll get us some breakfast and then we'll call Abby and McGee and go from there. We can't touch your father until we have something solid and the best way to get that is from the Crescent Martyrs." The only reply was a nod from Ziva. She was grateful of the break. She savoured her shower. The heat massaged her aching muscles. She was able to forget that her world was crumbling around her. She finished her shower and and wrapped herself in a hotel bathrobe. There was no noise from the living room where she assumed Tony was sleeping. As she made her way to the living room she could see Tony sat on the sofa, awake and looking very annoyed. As she entered the room she understood why.

"Hello Officer David."


End file.
